We’ve been fortunate this past week to have been staying in relatively decent parts of Panama City. If you would have asked me at the beginning of our journey if I thought the places we were staying here in PC were decent, I certainly would have said no. But just yesterday, my entire prospective of living quality changed when Jake, Keri, and I visited Colón.
Our goal when going to Colón was to try and hook up with a ministry called Mucec. They are a Catholic organization that are partnered with Sisters of Mercy, but are one of the only Christian ministries in all of the city. We took a taxi to the local Albrook bus station from our hostel in Panama City, then proceeded to take an hour and a half bus ride from downtown Panama City to Colón. Each seat on the bus was packed, and because we just got to the station before the bus left, Keri, Jake, and I had to split up and sit in our own seats away from each other. As we drove through the country side, we saw just how beautiful Panama was. It was like something out of a movie or what you expect your honeymoon location to be like. There were palm trees everywhere, hills and valleys full of green beach grass for miles and miles, and the sun was beating down making the country side seem like some sort of tropical paradise. I began thinking to myself “how could Colón be that bad if the country side was is beautiful?”
There is a very distinct line between the country side and the city. Just as I was sitting back and enjoying the view, I was interrupted by broken down buildings, junkyards, and homeless people sitting outside their broken down pile of rubble they called home. Colón is a city with 56% unemployment rate, which more than quadruples that of Detroit. More than one out of every two people living in that city is unemployed. In the U.S., we complain about 8-10% unemployment, but 56% is the likes of which many of us can’t even imagine seeing. As we approached the city, we immediately packed away our valuables because if they were loose at all, we more than likely could have been pick-pocketed.
We got off the bus at the Colón bus station, which wasn’t really that much of a station at all. It was more of a stop in front of an outside market where many of the locals were selling their goods and services. It was very loud, but the first thing we noticed when we stepped off the bus was the stench. It was almost palpable. The smell of raw meat mixed with body odor, feces, and dirt invaded our lungs. I tried to find a bathroom, but couldn’t. We ended up going across the street to a local food mart where they had a bathroom there. When I asked where it was, they pointed me around the corner to a door that was padlocked. They handed me a key and I went in. This bathroom wasn’t much more than a hole in the wall. There was dirt, dust, remnants of past attempts to urinate, and toilet paper all over the walls and ground. The stench of the city magnified threefold as soon as I stepped foot inside the bathroom. I almost lost my breakfast as I tried to hold my breath in the dimly-lit, odor filled room. I immediately knew this city was in serious trouble.
We eventually got to Mucec (pronounced Moo-sek) and met up with the people of the organization. They gave us a brief tour of their building which actually was a beautiful place in comparison to the rest of the city. This organization took kids in Colón into their building, gave them schooling for four hours a day, then sent them to the local elementary school for the rest of the day. They do this to help not only with instilling moral guidelines to children at a young age; they want to prepare the children of Colón adequately for the future so that they may be able to bring that unemployment number down and help regrow the city. Colón once was a vibrant town during the construction of the Canal, given that the end of the Canal runs right through the city. However, ever since then, Colón has yet to find its identity in the Panamanian economy.
During the time we were in Colón, I was more concerned with our safety than I was reaching out to people in need. But after we boarded the bus back to Panama City, I realized that this city needed help, and by only being concerned about my safety and not offering to help, I did nothing but add to the difficulty the city was experiencing. What sticks with me the most, though, is looking into the eyes of the people that lived there and seeing the loneliness, helplessness, and pain deep inside the core of their being. It looked as if they had lost all hope on living and are now stuck in a coma-like state between consciousness and death. I’ve heard of places like this before, but this is the first time I’ve actually seen a place like this, and it rocked me. It’s like looking at a picture of the Grand Canyon and then actually being there. Nothing compares to the feeling you get when you are actually at the location and are present to all the emotions behind it.
I know I could tell you all there is to know about the city, but I understand that it would be hard to understand just how devastating it is without actually being there. I just ask that you pray for the city of Colón and for Mucec. There is so much that needs to be done in that city because that city is devastated by everything from unemployment to Godlessness.
**I apologize for not getting more pictures of the place, but I was afraid my camera/phone would have been swiped if I all but took it out**
Blessings,
– N.J. Shear
